KEY POINTS:
The Kiwi pastime of spinning a yarn may be under threat but not at Martin Crump's place.
The radio host, son of one of the best storytellers ever, Barry Crump, can't sit still as he recounts a tale from his hard yakka as a caterer, serving 350 diners one New Year's Eve.
It might not be the type of story the publishers of the just-released book Crump edited The Search for the Great Kiwi Yarn: tall tales, true tales and larrikins would be keen on him telling.
But the raconteur can't contain himself.
He jumps up and moves his foot through the air like a soccer player as he talks of kitchen staff kicking around a piece of steak that a complaining customer sent back that busy night.
The cook was standing over the grill, the perspiration pouring out of him. The steak was chucked back on for a few seconds, covered in sauce and served up to the customer again.
"We had a little look out the door and we watched him eat his steak," said Crump, 48.
The verdict?
"He brought his steak back and said 'it's the best steak I've ever had, thanks very much'," he said.
"You never know what you're eating either, it's amazing what a bit of sauce can do."
While the story had the hallmarks of an urban myth, Crump swears it is true.
But the storyteller reckons shrinking attention spans and the internet age's throw-away attitude to writing is putting yarn spinning under threat.
Political correctness hasn't helped either by diminishing Kiwis' ability to laugh at themselves.
Despite being more of a talker than a writer, Crump said he put pen to paper for Search for the Great Kiwi Yarn to try to reverse the trend.
He hoped the book would inspire others to write, record or just keep retelling yarns of the past.
Six of Crump's tales made it into the book, with the rest of the stories in the 200-plus page paperback coming from a national search through radio and newspapers.
Crump's tale on Uncle Hec opens the book.
It's about how his well-heeled relative's new Mercedes is destroyed on a visit to a safari park.
The fact that not a word of it is true does not matter, says Crump.
"I stole the entire yarn, then I stole Uncle Hec off my father, who uses it in a book called Wild Pork and Watercress," said Crump. "So I stole it. Like all good yarn spinners do, you steal."
Telling tall tales
Martin Crump's advice on how to tell a yarn:
Capture your audience's attention.
Don't waffle - have a point.
A laugh is good at the start (and end).
